The air didn't just move; it screamed.
A hissing cloud of arrows immediatly flew their way from both sides as both vessels traveled passed them at high speeds.
It was a distinctive, low SHHHHHH—the collective sound of dozens of feathered shafts sliced the air. The noise was immediately followed by the sharp, sickening THWIP of impacts.
One whizzed past Kanka's terrorized face by inches,
Followed by a thick, wet THWUCK—the sickening sound of dense ironwood sinking deep into Tolu's ribcage.
The force anchored into her, throwing her backward as if she were made of nothing but dry grass.
She went airborne for a terrifying heartbeat before slamming into the wooden platform with a heavy, hollow THUD through the deck.
The scream that tore from her throat was a raw splintering of the air, a high-pitched, bird-like shriek that cut off abruptly.
Konto yelled, leaning in. "Tolu!!."
Followed by a thick THWUCK into Tambo's upper arm. His huge frame collapsed onto the wood with a cry of "Aaah!" The thick, dark blood began to well around the feathered shaft.
Kanka didn' make a sound. His whole body just went stiff like a piece of frozen wood.
He snapped his head toward his brother so fast his face looked completely bare and pale. His lips were pulled back just a little.
The lead Bati shouted a curse through the air. "Segai na yagomu!"
Tantei spun around, his movement quick and panicked. "Tambo. Where did it land?" He reached Tambo's side, his chest heaving. "Talk to me, man?"
Tambo clenched his jaw, attempting to sit up. The thick barbed tipped stingray spine seared through his upper arm. The arrow stuck out stiffly. "It... it went deep," he ground out, his face contorting with pain. "Aah."
Tantei knelt, his hands hovering uselessly over the wound, touching the arrow.
"Careful, careful." Tambo gritted in pain.
Kanka now spun to Tolu, eyes became wide and glassy, voice cracking with every second. "Tolu. Tolu. You're gonna be alright, okay? You will be fine. It's just a wound, so pull yourself together. Okay?"
The Captain of the lead Bati vessel watched the fugitives' Drua lunge away further down west. His reaction was a guttural snort of disbelief.
A Bati warrior, held the sheet lines ready for a pursuit turn, yelling over the wind. "Sir! They're getting away! Should we follow them?"
The lead Bati did not move for a moment.
He watched the speed and the angle of their escape, a cold calculus filling his eyes. He was not angry. He held his hand up in a halt. His voice was firm and commanding, cutting across the water, a final, chilling sentence. "No. Let them go. They are finished. The sea shall follow them. We Return to shore!"
The other Bati made swift, disciplined hand, a Chop Down Point and Sweep Arc Back signal across the water to the rest of the chasing force: "He said 'return to shore. Don't engage!'" The Bati's pursuit formation broke, and their massive sails began to bank inward toward the coast.
The lead Bati gave the swiftly sailing, desperate Drua one last, lingering look of contempt,
one last look—"Tchhh"—and spun away on his heel.
Konto gripped the Uli-kau, his arms trembled as he forced the massive timber to turn, trying to change their slow, exposed direction into a sharp course that lost the light of the shore. The wood groaned—skreee—as they vanished into the black.
Konto's hands were slick with salt and sweat as he gripped the uli-kau. The massive steering oar vibrated with a low, rhythmic hum as it cut through the deep water. He looked back at the deck, his chest heaving.
"Hold on, Tambo! Just hold on!" He looked at Tantei, his eyes pleading. "Tantei! Help me out real quick."
Tantei gave Tambo's cheek a final, desperate pat. "You're gonna be fine, buddy. Stay strong!" He scrambled toward the sail lines.
—SNAP-CRACK—
The massive sheet of canvas caught the full force of the wind, expanding with a sound like a cannon shot. The boat lurched, the hulls letting out a high-pitched, singing hiss—ssssssssshh—as they accelerated away from the headland.
Tambo laid in a Crumpled Heap, his breath coming in a broken, clicking rattle—uh-uh-uh.
Kanka slapped Tolu's cheek, the sound a sharp, fleshy crack in the silence. "Hey, Come on, Tolu. Don't go anywhere. Just stay with me, okay?"
Tolu's eyes were half-open, but they were fixed and unseeing. Her breathing had slowed to a faint, wet wheeze—hnnk-hnnk. The blood around the spear gushed out.
As the Drua surged toward a slow stop, Tantei and Konto threw their weight backward, their heels digging into the wet, sucking sand in a rhythmic THUD-SCRAPE.
They grabbed the sennit mooring lines, the rough fibers producing a dry, abrasive SKRIT-SKRIT sound as they wound them around the outrigger stakes.
The massive canoe gave a final, heavy GROAN-THUMP as the wood settled deep into the limestone grit, the seawater hissing—SHHHHH—as it retreated from the hull.
They were moving in a Urgent Blur, their eyes blown wide with that raw, mirrored fear.
Tantei scrambled, his body low to the earth, half-crawling and half-running toward Tambo's slumped frame.
His own breathing was fast and shallow, matching the panicked rhythm of his heart.
"I'm here, buddy. I'm here," Tantei whispered, his voice cracking and thick with emotion.
Tambo didn't answer. His chest was heaving in short, weak jerks, and a low, wet rattling sound came from his throat with every breath. His eyes were half-closed, rolling back slightly as he struggled to stay conscious against the rocking of the boat.
Konto broke away from the huddle, his lungs burned, his breath coming in jagged, whistling gasps that cut through the salt air.
His eyes darted frantically toward the huddle in the center of the boat—seeing Kanka's wide, frozen stare and the dark puddle spreading across the deckwood—before he snapped his focus back to the task.
He dropped to his knees with a hard thud against the timber. He gripped the small plow-stick, his knuckles white and shaking.
He drove the wood into the groove of the hearth-piece. Shrr-shrr-shrr— his arms became a blur, rubbing the wood back and forth with everything he had. "Come on... come on," he hissed through gritted teeth, his sweat dripping onto the wood.
A thin wisp of smoke curled up, then a tiny, glowing red coal appeared in the wood dust. He pressed the resin torch against it and gave a quick, steady breath.
Whoosh. The flame jumped to life, orange and hungry.
As the fire flared, Konto's head snapped toward the center of the deck. In the sudden, harsh light, his body went rigid.
His eyes locked onto Tolu's ribcage,
His jaw was set tight, his breath coming in short, sharp hitches that barely inflated his chest.
He didn't blink. He didn't move. His gaze darted with a mechanical, frantic speed, from the dark, rhythmic drip of blood hitting the deck to Tantei's trembling hands,
then back to Tolu's wavering eyes. The orange light flickered in his wide pupils,
watching the way the jagged spear-shaft shuddered with every one of her shallow, wet breaths.
He was looking at her, but it was like he was seeing a ghost already.
He scrambled to his feet, his toes scratching against the deck as he sprinted to the next torch station on the other side of the mast.
A second flame erupted, suddenly illuminating Kanka's face—pale, sweaty, and locked in that tearful-Eyed-expression as the orange light danced in his pupils.
It Caught-Up in a rapid, cinematic wave, revealing the scene in high-definition. The warm, flickering glow chased the darkness back, only casting long jagged shadows, pinning the brothers and Tolu against the space.
Konto reached the edge of Tolu. He went down hard, his knees hitting the deckwood with a hollow thud that vibrated through the hull. He held her hand, his palm, still soot-stained and hot from the fire-plow,
"Tolu? Tolu, please." Then the tears came, a quiet cry.
Tolu her eyes, once a vibrant amber, had drifted upward, wavering with a final, glazed uncertainty before they slowly fixed into a hollow, unseeing stare.
Her breathing—that weak, wet Hnnk... Hnnk...—began to stretch out.
The gaps between each gasp grew longer. She pulled in one last, jagged breath, a tiny bubble of red forming at the corner of her mouth, and then the air simply stopped moving.
Inside her chest, her heart gave one final, microscopic twitch and went silent.
Underneath the jagged spear, the rhythmic drip... drip... of her blood slowed to a crawl, then ceased entirely.
Kanka grabbed her hand, his fingers clenching around hers with a desperate, crushing strength. Her skin was already turning a dull, terrifying cold.
"Tolu, damn it!!" slapped her cheek again, his tears falling onto her pale skin. "Come on, don't leave us. Remember: Your strong. Fight it. Tolu.... don't do this to us!"
The shout ripped out of his throat, raw and jagged, echoing across the empty black expanse of the ocean. He shook her hand, trying to pull some spark of life back into her limbs, his knuckles white against her limp, grey skin.
He stared at her face, his eyes searching hers for even a flicker of movement,
a twitch of an eyelid,
anything. But Tolu remained perfectly still.
A sudden, violent overflow of Konto, the ash and sweat on his cheeks, dripping off his chin and onto the deck.
His chest hitched in a silent, jagged sob that made his whole frame shudder.
"No," he choked out, the word thick and wet. "No, no, no..."
He looked at her eyes, that warmth they used to have being replaced by a cold, heavy stillness that felt louder than the wind.
"Tolu!!!! No." Kanka's scream was a raw, red sound. He began to move like a man possessed, his eyes darting around the deck.
"Konto. Grab me something in the storage hatch, make it quick. Stop being slow, stop being slow."
Konto didn't move. He just sat there, crying, his mind gone.
Tantei didn't look up from Tambo, his voice tight and higher-pitched than usual. "Kanka, she's gone."
"NO."
Kanka ignored him, charging toward the storage hatch. He threw things aside with a constant clatter and rattle. "She's alive. She's a strong girl. I know she is."
He returned with a bulbous flask of liquid herb, his face set in a look of dramatic resolve. "Move, move!"
Konto grabbed the flask fiercely, trying to stop him. "Stop it, Kanka! Don't be dramatic. It's no use!"
They fought over the bottle, pulling back and forth until Kanka threw a punch—swoosh—and yanked the flask away with a crying wheeze.
Konto fell forward, burying his face in his arms and wailing—aaaah—aah.
Kanka didn't wait. He reached down and pulled the spear out of Tolu's chest with a sickening pluck-shush.
"Kanka!" Tantei yelled, horrified.
"She's not dead, she's not dead, she's not dead!!!!!" Kanka screamed. He poured the herb into the open hole in her ribs.
When the bottle was empty, he hurled it across the deck
—BANG—
He backed away, his body shaking with constant cries. He began kicking the ground, then collapsed onto his knees, face down like a little kid, sobbing into the wood.
Some time later:
Tantei snatched a retrieved item from Konto—a small, totally torn sulu of coarse cotton, his hand movement froze, the contempt in his voice a stark, sharp mutter "Useless."
He shrugged off the annoyance and lashed the fabric tightly around the arm, desperately attempting to join the torn parts into one useful, pressure-binding piece.
Tambo sighed heavily, closed his eyes, his uninjured arm covering his face, his body completely still. The exhausted quiet was a heavy blanket.
"All good," Tantei said, the relief in his voice felt almost too loud. He sat up straight, looking to the others. "The plan didn't go as hoped, but we are alive. It could've been worse."
Kanka, who had just moved to the edge of the hull without looking back, reached up and grabbed his long, sweat-and-sea-caked red dreadlocks.
His fingers moved with a sharp, quick efficiency, yanking the mass not upwards this time, but into a tight, single coil at the back of his neck and securing it.
Konto muttered in subtle worry, his movements deliberate as he secured the ropes to the belaying pin. "He's gonna be okay, right?"
No one said a thing.
Tantei simply looked away to the side, Kanka gazed silently into the dark, ocean, and Tolu's body still laid inches from the deckwood, motionless.